Autopsy
by Cylent Muse
Summary: Gruesome murders originating from a haunted Sanitorium lead the brothers on a hunt that draws up many buried emotions.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note**: I would just like to let everyone know that this is my first fanfiction **EVER**. I would like some slack, but I hope that none hold back in their criticism. Just, please no flaming and telling me what complete crap it is. Also, I have no beta so there may be some mistakes. I've spell-checked and reread multiple times, but errors do occur.

So enjoy...

Chapter 1

The abandoned hospital stood as a menacing silhouette against the night sky; a ghastly image of spires and windows. It seemed to stare down on the couple that rode in on a neon green and black Ninja motorcycle. The thrum of the engine echoed on the wind, but once the driver cut it; the silence seemed to bear down. Awkwardly, the small figure balanced on the back dismounted while removing the sleek green helmet. Waves of blonde fell over the band patches on her faded denim jacket and she ruffled her fingers through it as pale blue eyes scanned over the building. It was obvious in the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other consistently that this was not a place she wanted to be.

As the driver removed his own helmet, he seemed to notice her anxiety. Sighing roughly, he placed his helmet on the handlebar and grabbed her helmet to set it on the back. Shaking his head, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. She managed to tear her eyes away from the monstrosity to focus on him.

"Justin, I don't think this is a good idea." She managed to say, placing her hands on his chest; worry clearly evident in her features. Her boyfriend only responded by smirking and kissing her. She managed to smile and return it half-heartedly before pulling away. "I'm serious. You know the stories with this place." She responded with more conviction, but with a slight upbeat tone now. He scoffed sarcastically, raising his head and rolling his eyes.

"Come on Kaylee." He almost whined as he brought his gaze back down to her. "They're just that. Stories. You know; made up to scare people away from this place. " He explained, as if to a child. She lifted her eyebrows and scoffed, pushing away slightly.

"Yeah hon. Three people dying in the last month is just made up stories." Justin inhaled sharply through his mouth, closing it to exhale through his nose as his gaze fell to the ground. Kaylee paused momentarily before continuing to try and talk some sense into her lover. "Babe, this place is closed off for a reason. It's dangerous and, believe it or not, I like living very much." She finished on a light tone, but still very much serious.

Sighing softly, she moved her head to try and meet his stare and he lifted his eyes to meet hers, an almost abashed look on his features. "Please Justin. Let's just get out of here. I mean, it doesn't matter what they think. Right?" This pleading attempt to get him to back out resulted in a backfire. He shook his head, his lip raising into that defiant smirk she had come to love.

"Nah Kay." For the first time, she hated the way her nickname fell from his lips. "They think I'm full of shit and I'm gonna prove them wrong." His ego was scratching her nerves and she sighed again in frustration, rolling her eyes as she broke from his embrace. He growled at his stupidity, running his hands through his hair as she began to walk towards the gate they'd just rode in through. He jogged to catch up to her, grabbing her arm to turn her around. Her mouth was set and her eyes were darkened in anger, but she didn't pull from his softened grip.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked, though he knew the answer.

"I'm going home. " She answered shortly, holding his gaze. That's what he'd fallen in love with on their first meeting. That temper. He'd learned every inch of that anger over their time together. He'd especially learned to enjoy their make-up later on.

"Sweetie, it's almost 2 in the morning. There's no telling what psycho's are out there. Besides," He started, bringing his other hand up to wrap around her other elbow tenderly. ", I can't exactly keep my eye on ya if you leave."

He could see her resolve weaken at his sentiment, but she'd always been able to keep up her grudge through his sweet talk longer than most. "And you expect to keep an eye on me while we're in some big ass haunted house?" She retorted sharply, her hand raising to grip his elbows as well. "Babe, I am scared. Can we please just go?" She begged, opting for honesty. She could almost see the defeat creeping into his eyes; those beautiful hazel eyes she was constantly finding herself lost in. However, he only proved to disappoint her when he started shaking his head.

"Kaylee. I'm gonna do this. If you want, you can stay out here with the bike." She scoffed, glancing around at the trees that lined the drive as if a monster was hiding behind one of the trunks. "I'm just gonna go in, look around, grab something to prove I was here, then I'll be right back out and we can leave. " Kaylee seemed far from convinced and Justin almost gave in when he saw how close to tears her fear were bringing her. Unfortunately, the insults at his expense were still fresh in his mind.

Carefully, he brought his hands up to rest on each side of her neck, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. She brought her hands up to hang onto his wrists and he lowered his head to look straight into her eyes to get his point across; run his sincerity right into her mind.

"Sweetheart, listen to me. I love you." She smiled, blinking to try and hold back the tears, but only succeeding in pushing two over her right cheek. He wiped them away with his thumb, following it up with a soft kiss on her cheek. She closed her eyes as he kept his forehead against hers. "I promise you that I am not gonna let anything happen to you." He said it with such raw emotion that she could do nothing but believe him.

He got one last kiss before pulling away, making sure to grab a flashlight from the back of the motorcycle. She crossed her arms over her chest, watching as he turned back to her, walking backwards with that cocky grin on his face.

"I swear Kaylee. In and out." He called to her and she nodded. He hopped up the front stairs and used his flashlight to smash in a window. He was careful to knock out the glass around the edges and pull the sleeves of his black hoodie over his hands as he managed to crawl inside and disappear from view.

Leaving her completely alone.

The interior seemed even more enormous than the outside. Every step he took made a loud creak resound throughout the cavernous rooms, amplified to his ears into a roar. So much for trying to keep quiet. The light jerked spastically to every shadow in every corner as Justin made his way through the hospital. It was easy to see how so many stories had come to surround the place and the fact that a serial killer was supposedly haunting the grounds only increased those myths tenfold. Being inside the place where the tales had originated and feeling the malice that filled it gave him an understanding into the terror that Kaylee was feeling.

Kaylee.

It was surprising that he hadn't drove off with her as soon as she asked. He had been the first to admit that she had him whipped and he wasn't afraid to receive those taunts either. In his eyes, she was perfection. She could do no wrong and he would jump over the stars and give her the moon if she ever asked.

As his mind was focused on her, he didn't notice the shadow that moved behind him. Had he noticed that, he'd of noticed how not a sound came from its movement.

It was getting colder out and Kaylee glanced at her watch for what seemed like the zillionth time. A minute hadn't even gone by from the last time she'd checked; however, it had been almost 10 minutes since Justin had gone into the building. She tightened her jacket around her body, her lip quivering in a blend of fear and chill as she looked around herself. What could be taking him so long?

_In and out? Bullshit. _She couldn't help thinking as she started to rub her arms to get her blood flowing.

The building seemed to be poking at every 'scaredy-cat' bone in her body, but being outside alone wasn't helping. The wind was picking up and it made the trees bend and whistle, creating a sense of foreboding in the immediate area. Shaking her head in reluctant decision, she grabbed a flashlight from the back and practically ran to the front, hoping to catch up to Justin before he got too far into the hospital.

The window was easy to crawl through and she swept her light across the lobby as she hopped off the pane. She hissed and wthdrew her hand quickly, swinging her light around to focus on the minor tear in the flap of skin between her index and thumb. It stung, but no glass was lodged and she instinctively put the small wound in her mouth.

The atmosphere felt heavy and the temperature made her breath come out in vapors. It made her wish she'd grabbed that extra jacket on the motorcycle. It wasn't too late to go back and she considered it before dashing it from her thoughts. She needed to find Justin. He made her feel safe no matter where they were.

She removed her hand from her mouth and held it around her stomach, moving her light over the shadows before moving forward.

She avoided moving up the stairs, hoping that Justin had enough sense to not rely on the unstable support of the years old building. She started calling out for Justin, keeping her voice low as she briefly glanced into each room before moving on. She didn't know why she was whispering, but to yell in the gigantic hospital seemed almost like blasphemy. She felt like she'd be disturbing something.

If her presence hadn't already done such a thing.

She paused down a corridor that seemed no different from the others she had travelled down, wondering how the nurses that had worked here during its active days had been able to find their way around without a detailed map in their pocket. She sighed in defeat, ready to turn around and try to find her way out when she heard a creak to her left.

It made her jump visibly and swing her flashlight around, as if that would fend off what had made the noise, only to find a door creaking open from the slight draft in the hall. What was making the draft was unknown to her, but she groaned in dismay when the door moved shut and she could read the sign.

BASEMENT

"Oh Justin. Please, tell me you didn't go down there?" She asked into the emptiness as if he would pop out of thin air to tell her just what she wanted.

Instead of that so needed answer, the door swung open once more. Taking a couple deep breaths to calm her twisted nerves, she moved forward to stand at the top of the landing.

The light barely reached the bottom and sent the shadows flying up onto the ceiling, giving her a sense of claustrophobia and she hadn't even started her way down. Swallowing hard, she forced herself three steps before she was unable to go any further. She still couldn't see the bottom.

"Justin." Her voice came out weak and she realized that if the flashlight didn't even reach to the bottom of the stairway, her voice sure as hell wouldn't. "Justin! Are you down there!" She called, forcing her voice louder.

She was answered by the door behind her slamming shut and a loud -click- that signalled a lock being pushed into place. She'd barely had time to turn before she felt something push against her and her feet slid from under her.

She barely felt the fall, but as she slammed against the concrete floor, every bump and bruise came rushing to catch up to her. A snap was followed by a lancing pain through her right arm as it bent under her and she could feel something creep over her temple, a stinging sensation emitting from the source. The throbbing in her ribs meant a heavy bruise was forming, but she couldn't tell if anything was fractured. How do you isolate the source of the pain when you're hurting all over?

Unfortunately, she hadn't been knocked out so she was aware of every scrape and gash. Her right arm was completely useless and every movement seemed to jostle the broken limb. She whimpered as she struggled into a sitting position using only her left arm, her right cradled against her bruised ribs.

The flashlight had skid a few feet away, but the light was luckily still intact.

Releasing a relieved sigh, she reached out to grab it, but as she pulled it close to her and prepared to try and stand: the light flickered.

"Oh please God. No." She begged as she began to lightly tap it on her knee in hopes of soldifying the light. It only succeeded in extinguishing it.

Her whimpers broke the dark as the shadows seemed to crowd in; building up the terrifying sense of claustrophobia within her. The fear of not knowing what lay in that basement with her was sounding every warning bell in her mind. Her eyes darted around, trying to force them to adapt to the change; to allow her to see through the darkness.

A scuffling behind her made her jump, whirling around. Her grip on the flashlight tightened and her breathing accelerated. She could barely see an inch in front of her face, but the realization that she was not alone was stronger than ever.

A heavy sigh came from the other direction and she swung around, her fear overpowering the pain she was in. Tears were falling openly and blurring whatever vision she had. The pitter-patter of footsteps seemed to be coming in all directions at once and her sobs became louder as she began to feel around using her functional hand. She found the stairs and she began to crawl upwards, her legs bursting in agony whenever she tried to put support on them. Her climb became more desperate when the footsteps became louder and closer.

Justin sighed as he wandered down the hallways. He'd come in here half-expecting to experience some level of the paranormal activity that this place was known for. Instead, he was utterly bored and he had found nothing to prove his presence inside the crumbling building. Sighing, he checked his watch. It had been nearly half an hour since he'd left Kaylee outside and he immediately felt guilty.

She was truly and honestly scared of the place and he was pushing his ego above her.

Maybe she was right. What they thought didn't matter. Right? Reluctantly, his thoughts contradicting themselves back and forth, he turned to go back. His light swept over the inside of what had once been a sunroom and he had to do a double take.

His light fell on what had startled him before.

A figure sat in a chair that faced the wall of windows, staring out at the run over garden right outside. Long, dark hair and a small figure showed that it was female. She wasn't moving and she wasn't showing any signs that she had noticed his presence.

"Um. I-I'm sorry. I di-I didn't know that anyone was here." He managed to stumble out, his face a complete visage of confusion. The doors had been chained shut and he hadn't seen any other windows shattered. Of course, someone could have come in after he'd entered, but then she would have had to pass him to get to the sunroom. He looked back the way he had come; half-expecting others to show up out of the walls or something.

When his light returned to her, she was facing him, looking over her shoulder. Her eyes were filled with such obvious sorrow that it seemed contagious, his own throat tightening as if he were about to cry.

"She loved you too." She whispered in such an innocent voice, but it didn't distract him from her words. They confused him and a single tear fell over her cheek as she turned to look back out the window. He was about to ask her meaning when an ear-piercing scream filled the silence.

A scream that tore apart everything inside him.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Apologies on taking so long. I had to make some quick adjustments because my timeline seemed to be a little out of whack. Once again, this is my first fanfiction ever and if any banter between the brothers is OOC then I give my sincerest apologies now. I do wish for reviews and any helpful suggestions would be more than welcome. I know there isn't alot of action at the moment, but I promise that it'll pick up later on. Also, like before, I have no beta, but I have thoroughly checked and reread this story...but errors can still make it through my scrutiny.

**Disclaimers: **I do not own Supernatural (though if I did, I'd be busy locked in my room with Dean and a pair of handcuffs instead of writing this)

**Spoilers: **A minuscule reference to the 'rage therapy' performed in Asylum

****

**Chapter 2**

The rock music that played faintly over the speakers seemed more fitting in a seedy bar full of smoke instead of the quaint little coffeehouse it was currently filling. It barely bothered Sam though; so use was he to those lame cassette tapes of Dean's.

Sighing roughly, he glanced at his watch and than looked to the counter where Dean had gone up to get their coffee.

12 minutes ago.

The eldest Winchester was currently leaning on the counter in that suave manner of his; one elbow on the flexi-glass surface and his fingers interlaced, a coy smile plastered on his features. His hazel-green eyes locked with the blonde every now and than. That innocent flirting was driving Sam crazy and the fact that the girl, who seemed barely out of her illegal years, was falling for it was making it worse. Two cups of coffee were sitting by his elbow, but Dean was no longer interested in the caffeine.

Sam, however, had been unable to sleep all night and he wanted his coffee. Not to mention that a possible gig after nearly 2 weeks of calm was sitting right in front of him.

He exhaled roughly as he slumped against the booth, but his eyes caught on his cell phone that lay next to his laptop on the table. He narrowed his eyes in thought. Would he dare pull such a prank on his brother?

He was barely finished with the thought before he grabbed his phone and flipped it open.

"Dean!" He called out to his brother, resting his elbow on the barricade attached to their booths and holding up the open phone as if someone were on the other line. Dean glanced over with that smile still in place, caught in mid-laugh, and his target looked over as well.

"Your girlfriend wants to know when we'll be heading back." Dean instantly understood what Sam was pulling and he returned his attentions to the cashier to try and defend himself. The woman was already turned off though and ignoring him, seeming to find something very important to do by the coffeemaker. "What do you want me to tell her?" Sam added the final nail, a huge smile on his face.

Dean shook his head, grabbing the cups and fuming the entire way back to their table. Sam was laughing as he pushed his phone into his pocket and Dean glared down at him from where he stood.

"That was cold." He said as he set the coffee down and slid into the booth across from his younger brother. Sam controlled his laughter, shaking his head as he slid his coffee closer to him.

"Yeah, well, you practically abandoned me so get over it. Besides, I think I found our next hunt." He changed subjects smoothly as he took a sip and instantly recoiled from the taste. It was cold and bland, which was probably a result from the time Dean had let it sit there. His brother seemed unaware as he leaned back and clapped his hands, rubbing them together like some nefarious villain.

The smile on his face showed that he was glad to finally be out of the slump they had found themselves in. Hustling pool and seducing women could only entertain one for so long.

"Lay it on me." He said and Sam swivelled his computer around so they could both see the screen and he could switch the info when needed.

"The Bruckheimer Sanitorium. It was built in 1928 and it was generally made for those with tuberculosis, but it eventually began to include those with mental disabilities and common illnesses like pneumonia and the flu. Now, it shut down in 1958 because--"

"Whoa, hold on Sammy." Dean interrupted, waving his hand to emphasize and Sam reluctantly complied without reprimanding his brother on the usage of his name. "I'm not askin' for a history lesson. I just want to know what we're dealing with." Sam rolled his eyes at the impatience, scoffing as he changed the object on the screen to recent newspaper clippings.

"In the last month alone, four people have been murdered inside that building. The body count was alot higher about 5 years ago when tours were still held for the place. The owner was forced to shut that business down when too many people started going missing. Those people never showed up, but whatever is doing this has started getting careless. Or just arrogant." Sam explained ominously, searching Dean's face for any reaction but his brother was completely impassive as he stared at the headlines. He brought a hand up to point a finger at the screen.

"And what exactly is this things M.O?" Another click of the mouse and photographs of the victims began to appear. It was blurred, as if the camera had been moving, but gruesome details could still be seen. Dean squinted to try and see it clearly, but the computer was doing anything but helping. "What the hell is that?" He mumbled to himself.

"Some freelance photographer managed to catch these and put 'em online. That's a Y-section." Sam revealed, his lips quirking subconciously into a grin as he began to drag out his find. Dean's eyebrows rose as he looked from Sam to the pictures and then back.

"Y-section? As in what coroners do to dead bodies?" He asked though he knew the answer. Sam's nod confirmed it.

"Exactly like that. The amount of injury on the bodies showed they were probably tortured beforehand, but the autopsy itself wasn't post-mortem. Dean, these people were alive for the entire thing." He finished, his voice reflecting the disbelief he felt. Dean shook his head, leaning back against the booth. He stared at the screen, chewing on the inside of his lip in thought before looking over to Sam.

"Well how do we know this is our type of thing? Could just be some type of serial killer with major issues." He questioned, making sure Sammy had worn out all the sources to make sure he wasn't sending them on a wild goose chase. After having nothing supernatural to kill for the past 2 weeks, he was skeptical.

"Now, see I was getting to that in that 'history lesson' you interrupted." Another few clicks of the mouse sent them back a few pages. "It shut down because of theories that experiments were being conducted on patients and the government didn't look too happily on the chute they found beneath the hospital either." Dean had listened patiently, but at this, he brought a hand up to stop Sam once again. Sam sighed in annoyance, but Dean ignored it.

"Okay, first off. When you say experiments, you mean like that rage therapy done back in Rockford? And two, what the hell about the chute?" He was starting to not like this hunt already. It made him think too much. He liked the simple kind where you could just list off injuries done to the body and you knew what did it so you could rush off with guns blazing. Every now and then, an undercover job was a little fun. Who wouldn't have fun lying to the police? Research and history lessons had never been his thing.

"The purpose of the experiments was never said 'cause it was never proven to be true. The chute was basically like a giant garbage disposal for dead bodies. It was a way to get rid of 'em all without letting the world know the death count; which was reaching around 63,000 before it shut down." He had Sammy for the research.

Dean let out a long whistle that drew a few glances their way, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Still doesn't explain why you think this thing is our deal."

"63,000 Dean. Most of which being some pretty gruesome deaths. The place has been officially reported by professional, licensed paranormal investigators as haunted. Some encounters have been violent and they've supposedly caught footage and EVPs of over three dozen spirits. After the tour group business was shot, the phenomena in the place seemed to stop all together. These latest attacks have people talking about a petition to demolish the place." He explained, dragging the computer around to face him.

"Well, maybe if people would learn to listen to the warnings. I mean, hauntings are usually associated with lots of death and possession, right?" Dean muttered to himself. Sam didn't answer, only shook his head in response and continued to click through the information.

Dean took a deep breath, running a hand over his face before leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.

"All right. Well, I'm exhausted so maybe we should head back to the motel. You know, catch some Zs and figure out what to do first." He prompted, immediately taking charge. Sam was thankful for he had been thinking along those same lines. He packed up his computer as Dean went to start the car.

4 and half hours later, Sam was back on the computer while Dean was sprawled on the bed, flipping through channels.

_It helps me think. _That was the explanation for his lack of action. Sam saw right through it as a way to be lazy, but he let it slide. Research had always been Dean's bane and Sam enjoyed it. So he was content to leave things be.

"Dean." Until something caught his eye.

Dean tore his attentions away from the B-rated horror movie he'd found where Dracula was seducing a Marilyn Monroe wannabe to focus on Sam; straightening up slightly.

"I found a survivor. Justin Blake. His girlfriend was the most recent victim and he was, apparently, in the Sanitorium when she was killed."

"So, he mighta saw what did it." Dean declared as he sat up, tossing the remote to the foot of the bed. "Where's he live?" He added, swinging around to drop his feet to the floor. Sam sighed, turning to face his eager brother.

"Well, getting to talk to him might involve a little more work than just showing up on his doorstep."

"Why?" Dean asked, a rather annoyed look on his face.

"Well, he's kind of in a hospital."

Dean shrugged, not seeing the problem.

"A mental hospital."


End file.
